


Flatline

by talkingtothesky



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene has to have an operation which goes wrong. Sam tries to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flatline

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I was craving more Gene!whump. I need to stop writing things at 3am. Also I may have accidentally subconsciously borrowed Dr Turner from _Call the Midwife_.

When the flatline sounded, Sam fled.

He went careening off down corridors, scarcely looking where he was going. He only knew he had to get out, out, out. Doors clattered shut behind him, their hinges screaming, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum as he rounded corners, dodging trolleys loaded with linen, nearly tripping over a stray walking-stick propped against a wall, and then, just as he thought he'd found a fire exit, his way was obstructed by a large vending machine stocked with crisps and chocolate bars. In a _hospital_. He skidded to a halt in front of it and stared. No flashing lights or scrolling LED messages. Just a coin slot, and buttons to push. What use to him now was the age of simplicity, without Gene in it? He lifted his foot and kicked the machine square in the middle, hard as he could. The whole thing rattled and shook, but didn't dent, didn't budge.

"Oi!" Came a voice from behind him. "Sir, are you aware that damage to property is a criminal offence?"

Sam looked over his shoulder, realised he was not very far from the nurses' station, took in the stern figure behind him who was folding her arms and frowning at him. Then he started to laugh. Kept laughing, until he was bent double, until his knees gave out and he found himself sitting on the slippery floor, gasping for breath and tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He felt one break free and trickle down his cheek, straying close to his ear before finding his jawline. He finally scrubbed it off his chin with the cuff of his sleeve. 

The woman was crouched down in front of him now. When he met her gaze she scooted forwards to grasp tightly under his arms. "Alright, sonny. Up you get." She manhandled him onto one of the plastic chairs lined up against the wall. "Who did you lose?" She asked with no softening of tone as she plonked herself down next to him.

Sam blinked at her. He rubbed at his temple with two fingers, switched his attention back to the floor. "He's my...Lost my..." He stopped. There wasn't a word for everything Gene was to him. He gave up on speech and lowered his head, pressing the heels of his hands against closed eyelids until he saw patterns, white and gold bursts of stars. 

"Can I get you anything?" The woman asked, after a time.

Sam wearily removed his hands and leaned back in his seat. "What's your name?"

"Nurse Radley. What's yours?"

"Sam Tyler. I'm a police officer."

She pursed her lips. "That explains much."

Sam snorted. For a moment his eyebrows twitched upwards. "Yeah, I suppose it does." He pointed in the direction of the vending machine. "What is that doing here, anyway? Not only is it nutritionally void, it's a fire hazard."

Nurse Radley smiled tightly. "It's preventing a hazard. Beyond that door is a fire escape so rickety it's been deemed unfit for use. Only had the inspection two days ago, the whole thing's meant to come down and be replaced next month. We haven't had time to change the signs yet."

Sam nodded slowly. His head ached.

"And as for its nutritional value...I find the odd treat works wonders with patients who've unfortunately been stuck on cold mash for two weeks. Also, mainly the staff use it."

"I see," said Sam, for lack of anything else to say. 

"Look, will you be alright here for a bit? I'm late for my rounds."

Sam was a little bit relieved, a little bit panicked by this. "Sure."

She stood up, squeezed his shoulder, looked as though she might be about to say something else but then thought better of it. She trotted off down the corridor the way Sam had come. 

He took in a deep breath, and counted to five as he let it go again. His hands were still shaking. His knees and foot throbbed. He was terrified of thinking. He sat there for quite some time, just staring into space, focusing on keeping his mind entirely blank.

"DI Tyler?"

He was jerked out of it by a man's voice. It was Dr Turner. He'd been conducting the surgery when Gene...when the heart gave out. Sam had argued fiercely to be allowed to watch through the window of the room adjacent to the theatre. At least he'd been able to see the last few moments, however gruesome.

"Can I have a word?"

Sam stood shakily and followed Turner's lead. He watched the white coat-tails flapping. He wished they were camel hair instead.

Once he'd found them a room and shut the door, the doctor asked Sam if he would like to sit down. Sam ignored him.

Turner put his hands in his pockets and came to stand a respectful distance away. "You left the observation room at an unfortunate stage in the proceedings. Under the circumstances, it's possible you may have...made some false assumptions. We were able to resuscitate and finish repairing the damage to his lungs. He's heavily sedated and on a respirator for now, but-"

"He's not dead?" Sam interjected hoarsely. His own heart was thudding irregularly in his chest.

"He is not dead."

Sam wouldn't allow the relief to flood through him yet, not until he had proof. "Can I see him?"

"We permitted you to stand in under the condition that you would remain calm no matter what -"

"Then it's probably a good thing I left when I did." Sam admitted, shamefaced.

Turner sighed. "Ten minutes."

\---

It was strange, walking into hospital rooms to visit people when he'd spent so long in one himself. Sam never really got used to the feeling of stepping over his own grave. It was more than worth it, to see him. All the tubes and monitors showing signs of life. He shut the door and went to stand by the bed.

Sam grasped Gene's forearm, careful not to knock the IV, lifted and turned it just enough that he could bend over and lightly kiss the palm of his hand. Then he set the arm back down again extremely carefully. There was a pulse in Gene's wrist, slow and steady. Sam forced himself to hold it together and breathed with him.


End file.
